Unreality
by Settely
Summary: high school never ends or, at least, its trauma, right? AU pre-slash, friendship, swearing and humiliation


Arthur is slim, skinny even to some extent. He has bony fingers, narrow hips and the confidence of someone fully accepting his body image. His waistcoats fit him perfectly, snugly enfolding each curve and underlining bones lying underneath the fine shirts and even finer trousers. His moves are filled with grace despite the heels digging into the mushy carpet angrily. He paces the room, sending venomous glances towards other students, his fury radiating like heat.

To Eames, who's hidden in the furthest back row in-between his mates, he looks rather like the principal than just a mere student and man, it surely could be a turn on for some.

"Whose idea exactly was to throw Ariadne's bag into the bin?" Arthur's voice is sharp and yet steady and man, that guy truly has the leading streak in him, doesn't he? He gently yanks a red-eyed girl by the elbow towards himself, the one with weird sounding name it seems. She has hair of a past shoulder-length, dark brown mixed with streaks of cappuccino, swollen with crying lips and a defiant stare befalling them all. She's short for being a junior and if Eames didn't know better, he'd say the two of them were a sibling but oh, it's subtle and shit, but they're surely not one. It's written out rightly in the way this Ariadne's hands hook themselves round the elbow Arthur is holding and the way her mouth opens a little with a silent gasp at the touch. Also, why the obvious intimacy in front of everyone, darling? Eames tries not to snort but really, who can be more subtly blatant about something than his Arthur, for a great cause and other gibberish of course?

Dominic is fidgeting beside him, trying to get a better look at Arthur from beside the wall where they are standing. He's nervous but God, what can Eames do now? "Stupid newbies and their problems, why must he meddle?" Cobb mutters under his breath, drawing his neck forward and blindly elbowing Eames on the way, his hand vice-gripping on his shoulder, "Whom the hell is he trying to impress? Oh, for the love of-"

Sometimes, it seems to Eames that if Cobb could re-incarnate one day, he'd end up as Arthur's mother, one way or another. Even if the two of them are only two years apart, seriously. Cobb would guide him, shelter him and give him good advices and fuck, doesn't he have his girlfriends to do that for already? There is jealousy in these thoughts, a good dose of it alright but he feels left out on times like these, as if Cobb and Arthur had the only right to be there for each of them all. Seriously, he does care, in his own Eames-way just like they do. "Loosen up, tight arse. He'll be fine." Eames observes the group in front of them, rich kids bundled up like an army a few steps ahead of Arthur. The boy is turned half-ways to them but Eames can still read him like an open book, not as if it was ever a problem. His face is strained and there is that fire in his eyes that sends chills down spines. "It's just our wonder boy being his usual stick in the mud, don't worry, mother hen."

There is some movement at the front and before any of them can say anything less hilarious, a book bashes Arthur right in his face, its back coming onto its lower half with a thud. He stumbles backwards, Ariadne's face deforming itself with shock as she holds him by the arm. "Loser boy, take your new girl under your arm and piss off!" Someone shouts from within the crowd as Eames spins round, cold fury filling him like boiling water and Cobb swears with flourish, elbowing his way unceremoniously forward. What the f…

"Go read your fucking Homer elsewhere, freak!"

"Yeah, you'll make a good pair, the two of you!" A loud laugh emerges from some male, stentorian sound bouncing off of the walls of the corridor. "Finally going normal-" Eames is quick and before the wide smile dies on the boy's lips, he slams him onto the wall, his teeth barred.

"One more word, Fisher and I swear you won't have anything to offer your future boyfriend, not even your tongue." His whisper is ice cold and the ideally ironed collar of Fisher's tailored shirt crumples in his grip.

Robert smiles lazily, the movement spreading his wide lips further than it's humanely possible. "Sorry, lover boy, I'm already taken if you're proposing anything." His throat is inches from Eames' grasp and oh God, it'd be so dauntingly simple to just crash it here and there under his fingers, right?

Arthur moans something inarticulate from behind and as Eames spins round, opening his lips to call out to him, Fisher junior swings one of his fists with a swish and man, is that blood suddenly filling his mouth? It tastes just as horrendously as always and for a moment, darkness encircles his senses.

"Idiots, effing morons!" Cobb is snarling at people surrounding them and it takes a few minutes to get the hell out of there, hide behind a bigger shrub in the front of the school and try to lick the blood oozing down the corners. Eames' split lip hurts like hell but still, it's a lot better looking than Arthur's half-swollen, yellowish cheekbone. "Who the fuck do you think you are, heroes of the day? Damn, it's our first day this year, Arthur! Just, brilliant, effing brilliant, the first day and we've already crossed Robert Fisher junior!"

"Are you alright?" Eames' voice is filled with worry as he glances at their point man, his face ashen white beside the forming bruising and eyes still doubled in size. No witty remarks come to his head but it's fine for the time being, he doesn't even feel like being sarcastic about anything. Blasted Fisher and blasted Arthur.

"Fine." His voice hitches a bit but then Arthur coughs up, staring at his hands neatly folded in his lap, "I'm fine."

"Good to hear, you know." Dom stares at him hard, crouching near his feet with his arms folded, his leather jacket rising slightly, showing off his naked forearms. "Because now I want to kill you really slowly and know that you're not fine, not at all."

Arthur just sighs, looking at the ground and Eames starts to snort despite his best efforts. "Who the hell is that girl anyway? Your newest sweetheart, darling? Thought you fancied the experienced kind better."

Arthur glances at him indifferently and for a moment, time seems to have stopped for good.


End file.
